moment I feel a flicker of excitement at the thought of actually
finding
it.
But an instant later, sanity checks back into my brain. I mean, it probably doesn’t exist. And even if it did, the chances of finding some random necklace belonging to a dead old lady who probably lost it or broke it years ago are approximately … three million to one. No, three billion to one.
At last I fold the paper and tuck it in my bag, then flop back on my seat. I don’t know where Sadie is and I don’t care. I close my eyes, ignoring the constant vibrations of my mobile phone, and let myself doze off. What a day.
FOUR
he next day the sketch of the necklace is all I have left. Sadie has disappeared and the whole episode feels like a dream. At eight-thirty I’m sitting at my desk, sipping coffee and staring down at the picture. What on earth got into me yesterday? The entire thing must have been my brain cracking up under the strain. The necklace, the girl, the banshee wailing … It was obviously all a figment of my imagination.
For the first time, I’m starting to sympathize with my parents.
I’m
worried about me too.
“Hi!” There’s a crash as Kate, our assistant, swings open the door, knocking over a bunch of files, which I’d put on the floor while I got the milk out of the fridge.
We don’t have the biggest office in the world.
“So, how was the funeral?” Kate hangs up her coat, leaning right back over the photocopier to reach her hook. Luckily, she’s quite gymnastic.
“Not great. In fact, I ended up at the police station. I had this weird mental flip-out.”
“God!” Kate looks horrified. “Are you OK?”
“Yeah. I mean, I think so. …” I have to get a grip. Abruptly, I fold up the necklace sketch, thrust it into my bag, and zip it shut.
“Actually, I knew something was up.” Kate pauses halfway through twisting her blond hair into an elastic. “Your dad called yesterday afternoon and asked me if you’d been particularly stressed recently.”
I look up in alarm. “You
didn’t
tell him about Natalie leaving.”
“No! Of course not!” Kate has been well trained in what to divulge to my parents—i.e., nothing.
“Anyway,” I say with more vigor. “Never mind. I’m fine now. Were there any messages?”
“Yes.” Kate reaches for her notebook with a super-efficient manner. “Shireen kept calling all yesterday. She’s going to call you today.”
“Great!”
Shireen is our one piece of good news at L&N Executive Recruitment. We recently placed her as operations director at a software company, Macrosant; in fact, she’s about to start the job next week. She’s probably just calling to thank us.
“Anything else?” I say, just as the phone rings. Kate checks the caller ID and her eyes widen.
“Oh yes, another thing,” she says hurriedly. “Janet from Leonidas Sports called, wanting an update. She said she was going to ring at nine a.m. sharp. This’ll be her.” She meets my panicky eyes. “Do you want me to answer?”
No, I want to hide under the desk.
“Um, yes, you’d better.”
My stomach is bubbling with nerves. Leonidas Sports is our biggest client. They’re a massive sports equipment company with shops all over the UK, and we’ve promised to find them a marketing director.
Rephrase that.
Natalie
promised to find them a marketing director.
“I’ll just put you through,” Kate is saying in her best PA voice, and a moment later the phone on my desk rings. I glance desperately at Kate, then pick it up.
“Janet!” I exclaim in my most confident tones. “Good to hear from you. I was just about to call.”
“Hi, Lara,” comes Janet Grady’s familiar hoarse voice. “Just phoning for an update. I was hoping to speak to Natalie.”
I’ve never met Janet Grady face-to-face. But in my head she’s about six foot three with a mustache. The first time we ever spoke, she told me the team at Leonidas Sports are all “tough thinkers,” “hard players,” and have
finding
it.
But an instant later, sanity checks back into my brain. I mean, it probably doesn’t exist. And even if it did, the chances of finding some random necklace belonging to a dead old lady who probably lost it or broke it years ago are approximately … three million to one. No, three billion to one.
At last I fold the paper and tuck it in my bag, then flop back on my seat. I don’t know where Sadie is and I don’t care. I close my eyes, ignoring the constant vibrations of my mobile phone, and let myself doze off. What a day.
FOUR
he next day the sketch of the necklace is all I have left. Sadie has disappeared and the whole episode feels like a dream. At eight-thirty I’m sitting at my desk, sipping coffee and staring down at the picture. What on earth got into me yesterday? The entire thing must have been my brain cracking up under the strain. The necklace, the girl, the banshee wailing … It was obviously all a figment of my imagination.
For the first time, I’m starting to sympathize with my parents.
I’m
worried about me too.
“Hi!” There’s a crash as Kate, our assistant, swings open the door, knocking over a bunch of files, which I’d put on the floor while I got the milk out of the fridge.
We don’t have the biggest office in the world.
“So, how was the funeral?” Kate hangs up her coat, leaning right back over the photocopier to reach her hook. Luckily, she’s quite gymnastic.
“Not great. In fact, I ended up at the police station. I had this weird mental flip-out.”
“God!” Kate looks horrified. “Are you OK?”
“Yeah. I mean, I think so. …” I have to get a grip. Abruptly, I fold up the necklace sketch, thrust it into my bag, and zip it shut.
“Actually, I knew something was up.” Kate pauses halfway through twisting her blond hair into an elastic. “Your dad called yesterday afternoon and asked me if you’d been particularly stressed recently.”
I look up in alarm. “You
didn’t
tell him about Natalie leaving.”
“No! Of course not!” Kate has been well trained in what to divulge to my parents—i.e., nothing.
“Anyway,” I say with more vigor. “Never mind. I’m fine now. Were there any messages?”
“Yes.” Kate reaches for her notebook with a super-efficient manner. “Shireen kept calling all yesterday. She’s going to call you today.”
“Great!”
Shireen is our one piece of good news at L&N Executive Recruitment. We recently placed her as operations director at a software company, Macrosant; in fact, she’s about to start the job next week. She’s probably just calling to thank us.
“Anything else?” I say, just as the phone rings. Kate checks the caller ID and her eyes widen.
“Oh yes, another thing,” she says hurriedly. “Janet from Leonidas Sports called, wanting an update. She said she was going to ring at nine a.m. sharp. This’ll be her.” She meets my panicky eyes. “Do you want me to answer?”
No, I want to hide under the desk.
“Um, yes, you’d better.”
My stomach is bubbling with nerves. Leonidas Sports is our biggest client. They’re a massive sports equipment company with shops all over the UK, and we’ve promised to find them a marketing director.
Rephrase that.
Natalie
promised to find them a marketing director.
“I’ll just put you through,” Kate is saying in her best PA voice, and a moment later the phone on my desk rings. I glance desperately at Kate, then pick it up.
“Janet!” I exclaim in my most confident tones. “Good to hear from you. I was just about to call.”
“Hi, Lara,” comes Janet Grady’s familiar hoarse voice. “Just phoning for an update. I was hoping to speak to Natalie.”
I’ve never met Janet Grady face-to-face. But in my head she’s about six foot three with a mustache. The first time we ever spoke, she told me the team at Leonidas Sports are all “tough thinkers,” “hard players,” and have
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